


Occupational Hazards

by 4ce_in_sp4ce



Series: Contagion AU (Inception) [2]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Contagion (2011) AU, M/M, Major Illness, Sick Arthur (Inception), Worried Eames, talking about feelings under less than ideal circumstances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:26:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27529180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4ce_in_sp4ce/pseuds/4ce_in_sp4ce
Summary: Eames had always known this was a possibility. Arthur worked in the field, gathering information to help them understand what was happening, so ifanyoneon the team was going to get sick it was always most likely to be him. But actually seeing him like this was different.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Series: Contagion AU (Inception) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2012092
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Occupational Hazards

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the ongoing and ever expanding Contagion AU that I absolutely did not mean to become A Thing, but here we are

Eames was still in Geneva when he got the call. He grinned as Arthur's name came up on his caller ID. Arthur rarely called anyone as a rule, so this was an unexpected surprise; part of him even felt a little smugly satisfied, if he were being completely honest. Something he admittedly generally avoided being when it came to Arthur. He picked up with a chuckle. "Hello, darling. This is a delightful surprise.”

“Eames?”

“The one and only, love.” He grinned a bit wider. “What, couldn't wait until I get in tomorrow to hear my voice? You better be careful, or I might start to think you don't actually hate me." He leaned back in his chair. "I was thinking, though, I still owe you dinner. If I can manage to pull you away from work for an hour or two, that is. Maybe tomorrow night? There's a little noodle place I love that…"

"Eames, I…I think I'm sick."

Eames stopped, stomach dropping. He sat forward, paying close attention; he had to have heard Arthur wrong. He couldn’t have heard him right. "What?"

"I-I woke up with a fever and I-" A harsh cough cut off Arthur's voice, and it was a moment before he was able to speak again. "I've had a cough since early this morning." He took a shaky breath and Eames could hear the edge of fear in his voice. "I contacted the hospital and they're sending a team to bring me in and put me in isolation but it might be a bit before they're here and I-I just needed…I needed to call someone."

_No no no no, this isn’t happening._ "I can…" Eames had already pulled up flights, scrolling through them quickly and clicking on the soonest option. "I can be there this evening." He logged off his computer and grabbed his jacket and the small packed bag he kept by his desk for emergencies, running out of his office. It'd be close, but he could make the flight if he headed out now. "Send me the hospital information and I'll meet you there."

"You don't have to come, you're coming tomorrow anyways, it's alright, I just…I just needed to hear someone’s voice, that's all, you don't have to…"

"Arthur." Eames cut him off. He tried to shove down the panic he could feel rising in his chest. Arthur was already afraid- god he could only _imagine_ how afraid he must be- and he didn't need to make it worse by letting his own fear show. "I’m coming. I'll be there this evening."

Arthur was silent on the other end of the call for a moment, and Eames could hear him sniffle quietly. When he finally spoke again his voice was quiet. "Thank you."

"You're going to be alright, darling." Cobb tried to pull him aside to talk as he ran through the lobby but Eames pushed past him frantically, shaking his head. He had to get to the airport. He had to make that flight. He had to get to Arthur. "I promise."

XXX

Eames hated hospitals. He spent his time more on the public relations end of outbreaks rather than the front lines or research end of things, but he was far too aware of exactly how many deadly diseases one could catch in a place most people associated with healing to ever be comfortable in one. Hospitals were, in his opinion, a breeding ground for antibiotic resistant infections and were best avoided as much as possible. Thankfully his job as a media liaison meant he rarely spent time in them even when on location and he preferred to keep it that way. When he was in them it was usually for press releases or meetings with administration. Not to visit someone. He tried to ignore how particularly strong the harsh antiseptic smell was as he made his way through the halls to where the isolation room was. It was a smell he'd long come to associate with sickness and death, and he didn't need his mind to go down that path right now. He couldn't let it. 

Arthur was inside the room talking with one of the doctors, who was seated as far away from Arthur as the room allowed and wearing full protective gear. The sight made the coil of fear that had already settled in Eames' stomach tighten. He'd always known this was a possibility- Arthur worked in the field, gathering information to help them understand what was actually happening, if _anyone_ on the team was going to get sick it was always most likely to be him- but actually seeing him like this was different. Even from where he was standing Eames could see how bad Arthur looked. How sick. His normally pale skin looked grey and clammy under the harsh fluorescents and the hospital gown hung on him loosely, so different from his normal fitted suits. He wasn’t a large man to begin with and the ill-fitting gown made him look even smaller. Arthur wasn't supposed to look like this. He wasn’t supposed to get sick. He was supposed to just confirm the situation they were facing, to gather information and plan their next steps. He was supposed to be fine. 

The doctor left the room and Eames walked up to the window, tapping on the glass slightly. Arthur hurried over as soon as he saw Eames, expression equal parts relief and carefully controlled blankness. The look made Eames' stomach drop; he knew that blank expression. It was the one Arthur wore when he was giving bad news but didn't want to make it seem as bad as it really was, when he was worried but didn't want to show it. He reached for the phone and Eames picked up on his end. "You came."

Even over the tinny connection Eames could hear the relief in his voice. "Of course, darling. I told you I'd be here." He paused, pushing down the fear building in the back of his throat and trying to keep it from seeping into his voice. "How're you feeling?"

"Like shit."

"Yeah, you look like it." Arthur laughed slightly and Eames gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. His smile faded though as Arthur's laugh morphed into a rough cough that doubled him over. It was several seconds before it finally subsided, leaving Arthur shaky and out of breath when he finally picked the phone back up. "Are you alright?" It was a stupid question, he obviously wasn't, but Arthur nodded nonetheless. "Do they…do they know for sure?"

Arthur shook his head. "They're still waiting on the test. I-I have the symptoms though and contact with a source, and it's within the incubation period. So they're pretty sure. They should hopefully know by the morning."

Eames nodded, taking a breath to try and steady himself. "You'll be alright. You'll be okay."

"You know the odds, Eames. You know the mortality rate. 30% for H7N9, 60% for H5N1, so regardless of what strain it is I'm not…" Arthur's voice broke slightly and he looked down. "My odds aren't great."

"Arthur. Darling, look at me." Arthur looked up hesitantly after a moment, fear written plainly across his features. Eames wanted nothing more than to pull him in, hug him and tell him it would be okay, but he settled for simply putting his hand up against the glass. It was the most he could do right now. "You're going to be alright. You'll get through this. You're the most stubborn man I've ever met, so if anyone can beat this it's you, okay? You're going to be fine."

Arthur brought his hand up on the other side of the glass, resting his forehead against the window. "I'm scared, Eames." His voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't want to die here. I don't want to die alone."

Something in Eames' chest broke at that. In all their years working together, all the outbreaks they'd investigated and responded to, Eames had never heard Arthur say he was afraid. He moved as close to the window as he could, hating that all he could feel was cold glass. "You're not going to die. And you're sure as hell not going to be alone, alright? I'm going to be here. I'm going to be here until you recover."

"But the job, you have to work with…"

"I talked to Cobb. He's having Ariadne cover for me. It’s alright. I'm not going anywhere, love, I'm staying right here." Arthur nodded and Eames gave him a small smile. "And you have to get better because I still owe you dinner, remember?"

Arthur nodded again and closed his eyes, seeming to hang onto Eames' words. "You can…you can take me to that noodle place you mentioned."

"Yeah, we'll go there and you can pronounce all the dishes wrong like you always do." Arthur let out a quiet sound that might've been a laugh, or maybe a sob. Maybe a bit of both. Eames watched him through the glass, chest aching. He could feel words swirling in the back of his throat, things he'd thought and considered saying but had never gotten around to because he'd been too nervous. Because it was easier to maintain their status quo of banter and flirting without taking the next step. Because he'd always assumed they had time. He took a breath, praying to whoever might have been listening that he hadn't waited too long. "It can be a date, yeah? A real one. Been…been meaning to ask you on one for a while now."

Arthur let out another half laugh, half sob. "You have terrible timing." 

"I really do, I'm sorry," Eames laughed quietly, resting his forehead back against the window. "I'll make it up to you though, I promise. When you've recovered."

Arthur's fingers closed into a loose fist against the glass, and Eames could almost imagine the feeling of Arthur's hand in his. "I'd like that." His voice was quiet, and Eames could hear it trembling slightly. "I'd like that a lot."

"Good. It's something to look forward to then." Eames closed his eyes. "You're going to be alright, love. It'll be okay. And I'll be with you through all of it."

“Promise?”

“I promise, darling. Whatever happens…” His breath caught slightly in his throat. It was going to be alright, he wasn't going to lose Arthur. He couldn't. Not now. Not with so many things he still needed to say. “Whatever happens, I’ll be here with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> the original snippet that started it all........


End file.
